


The Hollow Crown

by mizstorge



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Alternate Universe, Asgardian Magic, BAFTA Awards, BAMF Tony Stark, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Established Relationship, Hot Chocolate, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Loki Needs a Hug, London, M/M, Magic-Users, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Post-Avengers (2012), Prisoner Loki, Protective Tom Hiddleston, RPF, References to Shakespeare, SHIELD, Stark Industries, Starvation, The Hollow Crown: Henry V, Tom Hiddleston Is A Sweetheart, destruction of a World Heritage site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizstorge/pseuds/mizstorge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Asgardian justice stripped Loki of his powers, and exiled him to Midgard, Avengers Headquarters became both his prison and his refuge - until he vanished without a trace.  Months later, Natasha discovers a personal message for Tony hidden in a BBC2 television program, and she and Bruce join him on a trans-Atlantic flight.  But they don’t know whether they've set off on a rescue mission, or if their special skill sets will be needed to save the Nine Worlds from annihilation. </p><p>Cameo appearances by two wizards from the Special Branch of the London Met who assist in aftermath of a battle at a World Heritage site.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hollow Crown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batsutousai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/gifts).



> Happy (belated) birthday, Bats!
> 
> Don’t try to reconcile the timeline of the Chitauri Invasion, broadcast dates for 'The Hollow Crown', and the BAFTA Television Awards with real life. It just won't work.
> 
> To those of you here from the Rivers of London fandom: Peter and Thomas briefly appear in the second half.
> 
> Many thanks to my husband, **hobtheknife** for support and suggestions, and to my wonderful friend, **Wynter Ravenheart** , for editorial assistance and insight.

The reason it happened was time-honored, the excuse was over-used: Loki had been bored.

Of course, he’d been outside the Tower many times, since Asgardian justice had exiled him to Midgard. But never alone.

The Tower was both a refuge and a prison. Powerful wards placed on the building by the All-Father kept away any rogue wizards, mischievous enchantresses, and other practitioners of magic who might try to attack him in his powerless state. The presence of the Avengers protected him from alien warriors, and other, more mundane, threats to his safety - like the series of letter bombs they had received from art history students in Stuttgart, when word leaked out that Loki was living at the Avengers’ headquarters in New York.

Under Thor’s glowering eye, and over the course of weeks, the Avengers began to tolerate his presence, to varying degrees, and with healthy doses of suspicion. Stark and Rogers had been first, and Loki had willingly deigned to become a playing piece as each of them attempted to assert authority over the team. Romanoff had been next, coolly resuming their verbal sparring. Banner joined in, out of scientific curiosity, and because of his friendship with Stark. Barton, having once been taken unawares, was altogether more cautious. Loki regarded him as a work in progress.

Gradually, a fragile web of alliances was built, along with grudging respect. These things solidified more the day Loki, forced to abandon his book by the cacophony of battle outside the Tower, picked up one of Barton’s spare bows, went out on the deck, and disabled Lightmaster’s power armor with a skillfully placed arrow. The most salutary effect of this had been that Thor made a noticeable, but stumbling, effort to stop calling him ‘brother’, and began to treat him more as a brother-at-arms.

It was after that, and without conscious intent, that his relationship with Tony Stark underwent yet another change. Tony had invited Loki to his lab, mainly to stress that his own armor possessed none of the defensive flaws of Lightmaster’s, which lay dissected on a table. A spirited bout of verbal sparring ensued, which left him feeling strangely exhilarated.

Tony must have enjoyed it, too, because, over the next few days, the banter continued. The banter escalated to flirtation, which led to a dare neither of them cared to refuse, and ended up with them lying tangled together and sated in Tony’s bed, each convinced of his triumph. A certain amount of doubt about who had won lingered, however, leading to the challenge being repeated, until they had undeniably become involved in what Tony prosaically called 'that thing we have going.'

And while 'that thing' brought a certain excitement to Loki’s life, that alone could not stave off the endless sameness of his days. Which is why, when Tony’s omnipresent steward informed him one afternoon that the bookseller on 42nd Street had obtained a book he’d ordered, Loki decided it was time to try his limits. Attired in the ubiquitous jacket, shirt and trousers affected by male New Yorkers, he descended to the lobby, and discovered that he was able to step outside, unhindered by either the security guard on duty, or the magic that ensorcelled the Tower.

Walking outside, unaccompanied for the first time in months, inhaling the polluted air of the city, was invigorating. The mortals, moving in crowds along the sidewalks, paid him little notice, and, after months of detention, he even found their diversity to be a pleasant distraction.

The clerk greeted him with the same courtesy he had shown to Tony on previous visits, and had credited his purchase to the Stark account. Flushed with success, Loki stepped out of the shop, and contemplated his options. He was quite fond of the tea at a nearby café, and had just decided to enjoy a pot of Lapsang Souchong while beginning to read the first chapter, when he heard a shout in a familiar language, and the air around him suddenly grew thick with a greenish-grey fog.

As he collapsed, the book fell from his nerveless fingers to the pavement.

 

 

“You have a call waiting from Agent Romanoff.”

Tony was lurking in the back of a conference room, trying to be unobtrusive at a meeting he really hadn't wanted to attend. “Tell her I’m busy,” he muttered. “I’ll call her back later.”

That earned him a smile from Bruce, who’d coaxed him out of the lab for a presentation on the next phase of Stark medical prosthetic devices. He seemed pleasantly surprised that Tony hadn't tried to use the call as an excuse to sneak out of the presentation.

Tony nursed his coffee, pleased that he could make Bruce happy with such a small amount of effort.

Bruce and Tony’s friendship had begun during the Chitauri invasion, and had been cemented during the equally tumultuous months that had followed. Bruce had supported Tony when he’d agreed to allow Loki to live at the Avenger’s Tower as part of the agreement Tony had helped S.H.I.E.L.D. negotiate with the All-Father. When Tony told him that he and Loki had become lovers, Bruce had deflected the criticism of the other Avengers with firmness and good humor. After Loki vanished a few weeks later, he had thrown himself into the search. And when the leads had all proven useless, he had been there to listen to Tony’s fears, to distract him from destructive behavior, and to divert his energy back into his inventions

“Agent Romanoff says she has discovered a credible lead, sir.”

Tony immediately transformed from morose genius to alert Avenger. “Put her through.”

Bruce, sensing the change, followed him into the hallway. “What’s up?”

Tony shot him a look that spoke volumes of anxiety and dashed hopes, and hit a button on his phone. “What did you find?”

Natasha appeared, the ubiquitous black walls and consoles of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s facilities visible behind her. “This.”

The screen filled with a photo of a familiar face. He was wearing armor, and brandishing a bloodstained weapon. There was blood on his face, too.

“What the hell-?” Tony began.

Bruce interrupted. “That’s not Loki.”

“No,” Natasha agreed. “That’s Tom Hiddleston, in a program from BBC 2. This is what I found.”

The scene changed, and the actor who resembled Loki was sitting on a throne, surrounded by other actors attired in the historically accurate theatrical costumes for which the television network was renowned. The lighting flickered, mimicking torchlight, and suddenly, the shadow of fantastically horned helmet appeared on the wall, traversed a short distance, and vanished off screen.

“How long ago was this filmed?” Tony demanded.

“Within the past six months. There’s more.” The image zoomed to some angular lines in the ornate design carved on one arm of the throne.

“What are those, Norse runes? Have they been translated? JARVIS, I want the jet ready by the time I get to the airport.” He headed for the elevator, Bruce at his side.

“The runes spell ‘Stark,’" Natasha informed him. "Looks like personal message for you.”

Tony punched buttons, and the doors closed. “It’s nice to be wanted.”

“Cancel your flight. I can have a quinjet there in twenty minutes, and you won’t have to clear Customs.”

“You coming along?”

Natasha thought about it. “Sure. I could use some fun.”

“In that case, bring something to wear to a formal party. That goes for you, too, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce shook his head. “I’ll stay here, thanks. Natasha doesn't want to fly with the other guy again, and it’s not like you’ll need an expert on gamma radiation.”

“No, but since I don’t know what shape he’s in, I’d like to have someone along with medical knowledge, combined with basic familiarity of Loki's physiology.”

Natasha added, “I have no problem dumping 'the other guy' out an open cargo door into the Atlantic Ocean. I’d even arrange for a search party to rescue you.”

Bruce winced. “In that case, I guess I’ll try to find my tux.”

 

 

Tony, after months of worry and uncertainty, spent the flight in a flurry of activity. He started by tracking down a phone number for Hiddleston’s agent. No one was in, so he left a message. He also posted a message on the actor’s Facebook page. When Bruce searched the internet, and found out that the BAFTA Television awards were being presented that night, Tony made several more phone calls, and arranged for tickets to be waiting for them when they landed. Then he’d called Dr. Jane Foster, inquiring about the whereabouts of Loki’s brother. Jane had told him that Thor was in Asgard, and promised to call if he returned to Earth. Meanwhile, he’d had Bruce access S.H.I.E.L.D.’s facial recognition system, and start searching for Loki in London.

Tony finally finished his phone calls, and slid into the seat next to Bruce. Images flickered across the computer screen.

“What do you think’s going on?” Bruce asked.

“Something’s prevented him from contacting me through normal means. Maybe somebody from the bad, old days caught up with him. Without the use of magic, he’s limited in what he can do to defend himself. He could be in hiding, and might be using Hiddleston’s resemblance to him to throw them off the scent. But I think if that were the case, he would have been in contact sooner. What I’m really worried about is that he might be a captive.”

“In that case, the important thing is that he’s not off-world. “

“Right. It’s important that we get to him before someone decides to move him elsewhere.”

“You know,” Bruce began delicately, “it’s possible this is another false trail. In spite of our trust in him, he might have found a way to escape Odin’s punishment. This could be an elaborate ruse, and he could be worlds away from here, with no intention of being found. He might even be-”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not at the point where I’m ready to give up on him.” Tony ran a hand over his face. “You need me, I’ll be back in the cargo hold, changing.”

Two hours later, they were mingling with the guests and nominees at the Royal Opera House. Tony had decided to go in on the red carpet, and the unexpected appearance of one of the world’s wealthiest celebrities at the event caused a stir among the reporters and photographers.

“Ms. Potts,” someone called out to Natasha. “Do you have a favorite British television program?”

Natasha smiled graciously, and clung to Tony’s arm. “I’m a big fan of Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock Holmes.”

“I know for a fact that’s not the only part of Benedict Cumberbatch that she’s a fan of,” Tony added with a smirk. Laughter, and a volley of camera flashes, followed.

Once inside, they joined Bruce, who had managed to slip inside the building more unobtrusively. “That was a…subtle entrance.”

Tony stopped a passing server, and handed around glasses of champagne. “Just stirring the pot, with Ms. Potts.” He lifted his glass to Natasha.

“Although we didn’t plan it that way, I might as well be Pepper, as long as we’re here,” she said, taking a sip from her glass. “We should split up. Mingle. Locate our target.”

As she moved into the crowd, Bruce looked worried. “I hate it when she says things like ‘target’.”

“Hope you don’t hate when I say things like ‘cover me’,” Tony said. “Because I just found our favorite actor.”

Tony waited until the beautiful woman speaking to Tom Hiddleston drifted away to join another conversation. “Hi. I’m Tony Stark.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Hiddleston breathed an audible sigh of relief. “I was afraid this mad scheme of his wouldn’t work.”

“We need someplace quiet to talk.” Tony searched for Natasha and Bruce among the attendees.

Natasha, working her way along one of the walls, nodded for them to join her. She slipped inside a hallway and, by the time they caught up with her, she’d opened the door of a locked office. They hurried inside, and Bruce turned on a small desk lamp.

“Where’s Loki?” Tony demanded.

The actor stared at him apprehensively. And then, a subtle transformation crept over him: his posture straightened, an eyebrow lifted, his lip curled. “It took you long enough to find me!” Loki complained.

Tony stumbled backwards, throwing Natasha and Bruce against the door. “What the actual fuck?”

Loki smiled, and ran a hand through Tom’s hair. “It’s good to see you again, too.”

Tony approached him slowly, and examined his features for a long moment. “Are you okay? How are you even doing this?”

“The actor’s study of my personality established a level of empathy that I have been able to exploit, using the strength of the ambient magic of this city. And how do you _think_ I feel, having been imprisoned in a dark chamber, by a mad wizard, with little to eat or drink for months?"

The hair was wrong, and the fragrance was wrong, the nose wasn't as sharp, and the height was a little off, but Tony kissed him. He usually tried to avoid displays of that sort in front of his teammates, because, well, the playboy part of his reputation was notorious enough. But, just now, it seemed the fastest way to find out what he needed to know.

Loki, in his borrowed body, gave himself over completely to the kiss, even allowed it to grow longer and messier. Tony could feel him yielding completely, and felt a flood of relief, as the darkest of the fears that had haunted him over the past six months dissipated. The kiss was familiar, which meant Loki was alive, and there was no tell-tale sign of hesitation or restraint, which would have been the first warning of deception. Tony could handle Loki being a captive, and Loki being dead would have been one of the greatest tragedies of Tony’s life, but finding out that Loki had become the enemy once more would have been an unending nightmare.

Bruce politely looked away, and then down at his watch. “I hate to say it, but aren't we in sort of a hurry?”

“You often see this sort of thing after hostage rescues,” Natasha explained, watching with interest.

Loki’s hands fell to Tony’s hips, pulling him closer, and Tony, all too aware of their audience, broke the embrace. “I almost lost my mind,” he confessed. “When this is over, I swear I’m going to handcuff us together, so you’re never out of my sight again!”

“Sentiment,” Loki huffed, but it sounded more like an endearment than a rebuke.

“What happened at the book shop?”

“I was attacked by an Asgardian enchanter called Brona. He has a vendetta against Thor and Odin, and plans to take his vengeance by destroying the World Tree.”

“Son of a bitch.” Tony looked over his shoulder at the other Avengers.

Loki frowned as the group exchanged glances. “What?”

“Thor has been helping with our investigation,” Natasha told him. “Brona’s on our list of primary suspects. He escaped from prison on Asgard a few weeks before you vanished, and has somehow been managing to elude Heimdall.”

“So, Loki, why aren't you and this guy BFFs?” Bruce asked.

Loki’s expression grew dark. “The death of Yggdrasil would mean the destruction of the Nine Worlds. He needs the blood of a member of the royal family to do it, and my having been King of Asgard, even for a short time, will only strengthen his spell.”

“You were a softer target than Thor,” Tony surmised. “Well, sorry, but we’d have been here a lot sooner, if you’d made it a little easier for us.”

“You people watch television, and your ridiculous movies all the time! I cannot be faulted for supposing you might follow a major network series!”

“I’m the one who noticed.” Natasha looked smug. “You know that ‘The Bachelor’ is usually the highlight of the Avenger’s television week.”

“No! I clearly remember viewing this man’s films! We saw the one about the horse, and the one with woman and the soldier!”

“Triggers,” Bruce said. “’Great Blue Sea’ made Steve twitchy, so, after you two slipped away, we watched ‘The Brothers Bloom’ instead."

Tony smoothed down the lapels of the actor’s jacket. “More to the point: where is your body, exactly?”

“In a chamber, beneath the Tower of London.”

“ _Here_?” Tony was incredulous. “Earth, England, London? Goddamn it, we’re finally getting a break! Have you been here the whole time?”

Bruce dug out his phone, and pulled up Google Maps.

“Yes. He left me here, while he traveled the Nine Worlds, gathering the items he needs to complete his spell. He’s gone to fetch the last: the crown of Penda, the last Heathen King of this land.”

“So we probably don’t have much time,” Tony concluded.

Bruce looked up. “We’re only about fifteen minutes away.”

“I’m up for destroying a World Heritage Site, in order to rescue you, and save the universe.” Tony turned to the others. “What about you two?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Bruce said.

Natasha was already adjusting her miniature Bluetooth. “I’ll have the driver bring the car to the side door.”

“I must leave you now,” Loki said. “To save my strength for your arrival.”

“Which won’t be very long,” Tony told him. “I’ll be there about two minutes after I put on the suit.”

“You must bring Tom, as well.”

Tony shook his head. “Not a great idea. In fact, it’s a terrible idea.”

“Brona set wards, and I obviously lack the power to disarm them. Tom helped me to construct a simple charm that might suppress them long enough for you to enter the chamber.”

Before Tony could reply, his face relaxed, and Hiddleston stood looking at him with a faintly horrified expression.

“You hear all that?” Tony asked.

“Y-yes,” the actor replied. “I’m ready to help.”

Tony wondered whether Hiddleston’s discomfort was merely due to having been volunteered to accompany the Avengers on the rescue mission, or if it had more to do with lending his body to the God of Mischief, and then finding himself with a massive hard-on from being kissed by billionaire-genius-playboy-philanthropist Tony Stark.

Hiddleston was a professional, though, and he quickly composted his expression. “The things he mentioned are at my flat.”

Tony slapped his shoulder. “Good man. How long has he been in communication with you?”

“Months. I - _we_ tried contacting the police and the Avengers every way we could devise, but he thinks the magic that’s holding him captive somehow affected my attempts at communication, because he’s been inhabiting my mind.”

“Needless to say,” Tony said quietly, “we don’t want any of the details to be leaked to the press. And there’s no way Loki and I are ready to take our relationship public.”

"I understand,” Hiddleston said. “I have a great deal of sympathy for him. He can be charming, and very persuasive.”

“He’s been treating you okay?”

Hiddleston hesitated. “He’s angry, and bitter. He detests weakness in others, and despises his present impotence. And yet, in spite of all that, he tried to maintain his honor. He wants to survive, of course, but he’s truly worried about the fate of the worlds.”

“Right,” Tony turned to Natasha and Bruce. “Here’s how we'll do this. I’ll suit up, and scout the place. You and Bruce, take Mr. Hiddleston with you in the car to pick up whatever it is that Loki needs. Bruce, I want you to let Steve know what’s going on. Natasha, brief Fury. Have him contact Scotland Yard, and put the military on standby.”

“If we lose, the world’s going to end,” Bruce pointed out. “The Army won’t be able to do much about that.”

“Yeah, but it might take awhile to happen, and Earth’s not going out with a whimper.”

 

 

It would be an oversimplification to say that Tom felt nervous, sitting in the back seat of the limousine between two of the Avengers. Both of them were speaking quickly into their phones, allowing him time to rehearse what were undoubtedly the most important lines he had ever been given to speak.

His part had begun a few weeks ago, after a long day filming ‘Henry IV, Part Two’. Drying off that night after a hot shower, a ghostly face had appeared in the foggy mirror over the sink. It was a face that strongly resembled his appearance in ‘Thor’. “What in the world?” he muttered, leaning closer.

“Tom,” the reflection had said, in a voice that he knew quite well, “I need your help.”

It was late, and he was tired. A waft of steam clouded the mirror. Tom finished up, turned out the light, and went to bed.

He recalled the incident the next morning. He squinted suspiciously into the mirror, but there was nothing amiss with the reflection.

When he returned to his flat that night, he turned on his computer, and went to the kitchen to warm up some soup. When he returned, the screen was dim, and Loki’s ghostly reflection from the night before returned.

“I need your help,” Loki repeated.

Tom reached up to touch the top of his head; the reflection did not follow suit, and sighed in annoyance.

"Don't be tiresome," Loki snapped. “I am not a hallucination of your over-worked mind.” 

“Prove it,” Tom challenged.

Loki fixed him with a baleful stare. “Very well. Things I know, that you don’t, but can easily verify. Tony Stark owns a 1932 Ford Flathead Roadster, a 1967 Shelby Cobra, a Salween S7, a 2008 Audi R8, and a Tesla Roadster. The 'Mumford & Sons' cd you lost is on the shelf by the door, underneath the shopping bags. And your sister won’t be visiting you tomorrow because her car needs repairs.”

On his way to the door, Tom checked his messages, and saw Emma’s text about her car being in the shop. He found the ‘Babel’ cd on the shelf, under the bags.

“Two for me,” Loki’s reflection in the glass of the door sneered.

“I’ll give you the third,” Tom said. “I don’t remember what you said about the cars. Are you here to torment me for my portrayal of you?”

“Though it pained me greatly, there are more significant events in the web of Wyrd. I’m being held captive by a wizard who plans to destroy the Nine Worlds.”

Tom spoke promptly. “I’ll phone the police at once.”

Loki’s laughter was derisive. “If my escape could be affected so easily, I’d have done it myself. The place where I am imprisoned is under a spell. Unless your police have wizards working for them, they won’t be able to find me, much less release me.”

Tom had fetched his phone, anyway. After some searching, he placed a call to call to the Avengers’ headquarters. The screen filled with static, and flashed a low battery warning. When he borrowed a phone on the set the next morning, the same thing occurred. At lunchtime, he phoned his agent, and asked him to place a call to Tony Stark; the call was not returned. That night, Tom turned on his computer, and sent Stark an email. Again, there was no reply.

When Loki next appeared in his mirror, he was scowling in frustration. “It is possible that the wards placed upon my prison are interfering with your ability to contact anyone for help because of the connection we are sharing. Mayhap a more subtle method is needed.”

Tom suggested mailing a letter. He typed it that night, and stopped at the post office the next day, mailing it Airsure to New York.

Loki took an altogether different approach. After putting on his coat to leave the studio, Tom suddenly found himself alone on the set, standing by the throne with a screwdriver in his hand. “ I've been working too hard,” he thought, and resolved to take a much–needed vacation after ‘The Hollow Crown’ was finished.

Loki’s appearances continued, and Tom felt honor-bound to try to help him. “I know your relationship with your family has been disrupted,” he offered, “but what about Heimdall? Doesn't he see everything?”

“Midgard is my prison, as far as they’re all concerned. It doesn't matter to them whether I am confined to the Avenger’s headquarters, or languish in an underground chamber.”

“What about Thor? Wouldn't he help?”

He was prepared for Loki to erupt in anger, but the reflection in the mirror merely slumped in apparent exhaustion. “There is a slender hope that Heimdall has called Thor’s attention to Brona’s activities, and that Thor is hunting him. But if that hot-headed imbecile should kill Brona, only you know my whereabouts. I am a god, but I cannot survive indefinitely without sustenance.”

Tom sensed the horror of Loki’s condition. “There must be something else I can do to help!” he insisted.

Loki closed his eyes. He looked utterly exhausted. When he looked at Tom again, there was purpose in his gaze, but little hope. “Perhaps there is. But you’d better sit down, first. And you’ll need tools for writing.”

Bemused, Tom found a pen and some paper, and sat on the sofa. Almost immediately, he felt the dull pain of a headache coming on, and his hands began to tingle.

The pen felt unfamiliar and awkward in his fingers, but, after a bit of adjustment, he found a grip that worked, and began to write:

_wiz feondes hond and wið færbregde,  
wið malscrunge manra wihta._

“’Against foe’s hand, and against noble scheming, against the enchantments of vile creatures,’” Loki translated. “It’s a mark of the depths of my desperation that I must resort to herbs and runes as weapons against an enchanter as powerful as Brona.” His expression was bleak.

Tom tried to console him. “Perhaps something simple will slip under his radar.”

“Let us craft it well, and perhaps it will suffice,” Loki said, but he did not sound convinced.

It took Tom a few days to collect the herbs listed in the verses. Locating popsicle sticks in the middle of winter was more difficult, but at his sister’s suggestion, he was able to buy a pack of 100 at a craft supply store. He found a website that described the ancient Norse runes, and inexpertly carved nine of the sticks with the symbols Loki selected. Tom even managed to find some red ochre, and used it to stain each of the carved sticks the color of dried blood.

And then, they waited.

"What are these verses you are always conning?” Loki asked one night. His reflection regarded Tom from the darkness of the French doors of his flat.

"They’re from a series of plays written five hundred years ago. The ones I’m learning now are from a story of two princes.”

“I would hear this tale.”

Tom reached for a battered paperback, and stood before the image reflected in the glass of the doors as if standing in front of an audience. “One of the princes, called Hotspur, is the son of one of the King’s allies. He loves the glory of battle, and chases honor on the field. The King sees him as the paragon of chivalry, and all the more so because his own son is a disappointment to him.”

Loki nodded for him to continue.

“Prince Hal, the King’s son, is of a different temperament than Hotspur. He doesn't see the point in fighting meaningless duels and so, rather than compete with Hotspur on those terms, he forsakes life at court. He spends most of his time in a tavern, keeping company with common men and criminals, under the tutelage of a degenerate knight. Essentially, Prince Hal learns what we call life skills: how real people live, what values are meaningful, how to become an effective leader.”

“He learns how to manipulate people, not just by tempting them with titles and lands, but by understanding their needs, hopes and, fears.”

“Exactly!” Tom relaxed for the first time in Loki’s presence, much more comfortable discussing the motivation of Shakespeare’s characters than dealing with the futility of rescuing an imprisoned Norse god.

“I assume that the King embraces the war-hero, and rejects his own son?”

“Rather than question his own parenting skills, the King wonders whether the two princes were switched at birth. But conflict arises when the King’s allies rise against him in rebellion. He recalls his wayward son back to court, but he doesn't do anything to try to heal the relationship. Instead, he berates his son for not being a god of war, like Hotspur, and even questions his loyalty to the throne.”

Loki was pacing in agitation. “And yet, Hal dutifully marches off to war, and kills his rival, but fails to achieve his father’s high regard.”

“That’s true. The King mistrusts him until the day he dies. It’s only when the prince is finally out of his father’s shadow that he can show his true qualities.” Tom flipped through the pages of the book, and read:

_My father is gone wild into his grave,_  
_For in his tomb lie my affections;_  
_And with his spirit sadly I survive,_  
_To mock the expectation of the world,_  
_To frustrate prophecies and to raze out_  
_Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down_  
_After my seeming._

Watching from the panes of dark glass, Loki crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me: what sort of king did the prince become?”

Under the circumstances, Tom felt it best not to mention that he Henry V was extremely popular for leading a war against his realm’s ancestral enemies. “The poet who wrote this story considered him to be the ideal of kingship. His people loved him.”

Loki nodded. “It is a good tale. Thank you.”

“I know many more. I can tell you one, whenever you wish.” Under the circumstances, the offer seemed pitifully inadequate.

Tom rehearsed his lines for Loki at every opportunity. When filming for ‘The Hollow Crown’ wrapped up, he recounted scenes from Shakespeare’s history plays and comedies for Loki’s amusement. And he doggedly continued sending messages for help, none of which ever seemed to arrive.

Time passed. Loki’s appearance grew steadily more haggard, and Tom became even more worried.

Finally meeting the three Avengers had restored his hope. But now, in the limousine, speeding toward the Tower, clasping a bag filled with dried herbs and sticks, Tom wondered if they if they were already too late.

 

 

Tony flew over the Tower of London, and then circled it a couple times. The place was enormous, and the walls contained a number of buildings.

“JARVIS, everything under control?”

“I have disabled the alarms, and opened all electronic locks.”

“Good boy. Daddy’s going to raise your allowance when we get home.”

“You said that last month, after I landed Mr. Richard’s jet safely when the controls had frozen. ”

Tony’s mind was already elsewhere. “Locate an easy entrance for Tasha and Bruce to use. Leave a light on for them, but turn off all the rest. And start scanning for a magical signature. Loki believes he’s in an underground cell.”

Tony landed inside the innermost wall of the castle.

“The basement on the northern side is below ground level,” JARVIS reported. “There is a disused service entrance near the north-west corner. A floor plan indicates there is a chapel on the south-east corner of the entrance level, with a small, secured storage-room in an alcove on the north side – and there is a faint energy signature, with similarities to those previously recorded for Loki and Amora, emanating from the basement immediately underneath.”

“That’s probably where Voldemort stashed the Deathly Hallows, and I can’t believe he’d leave them unprotected. Okay, let me know if anyone else shows up. And try to get through to Bruce and Natasha, let them know what’s going on.”

He went through the front door, turned left, and followed the signs to the chapel. The solid medieval construction of the floor easily handled the weight of the suit. The only furnishings inside the chapel itself were a few pews, and a large stone altar. Searching the wall on the right, he easily found the alcove. A low pulse of energy blew the door off the hinges, and he stepped over the smoking wreckage to survey the contents of the room.

Suddenly, something hit him from above with the force of a falling piece of medieval masonry, and threw him into a wall. Turning, he saw a shape plummeting toward him. “Let’s try 30%” he said, mindful of the historic significance of the building. He targeted the object, which looked like a flying monkey made of granite, and fired. Chunks of broken stone rained down on him, including one big enough that he felt it when it hit his helmet.

“Son of a bitch! JARVIS, I suppose you didn't see that thing because it looked like part of the building, right?”

“That is correct, sir. However, I do detect an approaching energy source that matches the Asgardian signature type.”

“It would be great if that’s Thor. In the meantime, I need to find the Horcruxes.”

“There is an unusual mass of mixed elements, predominantly metals and quartz, located in the chapel, sir.”

Tony strode back to the crypt, and examined the altar. He pushed against the top edge, and it moved several inches. Bracing his feet, he gave it a really hard shove, and the marble surface crashed to the floor. Inside, he saw a mass of dull metal and gems. “What do you know? He put the gargoyle in the strong-room, and left the treasure out in the open.”

Without the faintest twinge of shame, he blasted the entire hoard to a stinking, molten heap.

One of the stained glass windows exploded, and a guy in red and purple armor flew into the room. He was wearing a bull-horned helmet, and swinging a massive mace. “Insolent mortal!” he screamed. “I will destroy you!”

“I wish I had a million dollars for every time somebody said that to me. Oh, wait: I do.” He fired his repulsors on full power, throwing the Asgardian across the room and smashing him into the wall.

But, instead of sliding to the floor, the armored figure began to glow.

The schematics projected inside Tony’s helmet flickered and dimmed. “Energy remaining: 60%,” JARVIS reported.

“What’s going on?”

“He is somehow absorbing the energy of the blasts.”

"JARVIS, remind me: what happened to the last asshole who did that?”

“Loki disabled Lightmaster’s suit, and Mr. Parker secured him with webbing.”

“That’s right. It started out as Peter’s fight.” Tony had a brief flash of Loki standing on the deck with a bow, his long, wind-lashed coat making the shot look way cooler than when Clint did it.

“I am Brona, the enchanter!”

“Hey, I guessed right! Do I win anything?”

Brona flew at him. Energy crackled from his mace, striking the suit directly in the chest, and hurtling Tony into the wall behind the altar.

“Power fully restored.”

“Is that so?”Tony blasted the enchanter off his chest, hurling him backwards across the altar.

“Dr. Banner has arrived, and asks if you require his assistance.”

“No! I got this. Tell him to rescue Loki!”

Tony scrambled to his feet. He heaved at the altar base, lifted it above his head, and threw it on top of the enchanter.

Energy crackled, and the stone base exploded outward, flinging fragments of stone across the room like shrapnel.

Brona rose into the air, aimed his mace, and shot a searing bolt of energy toward the top of one of the columns.

“JARVIS, if those columns fall...”

“There is an 89% probability that the basement level will collapse.”

Brona raised his mace, and took aim at another column.

“Hang on. This is going to get messy.” Jets on full power, Tony tackled Brona like a linebacker sacking a quarterback. The enchanter twisted like a fish, but Tony hung on tight, and they burst through another stained glass window. Brona lost his helmet and mace in the process. Tony hurtled toward the inner wall at full speed.

“JARVIS, absorb it all, down to the last eV!”

They hit the wall, crashed through, and kept going.

“You cannot defeat me!” Brona shouted.

“Yeah?” Tony sharply angled their trajectory, and they impacted the ground just short of the outer wall, rocks and clods of earth bursting into the air.

It took a few tries before Tony managed a groan.“ _Fuuuucccckk._ ”

“Energy capacity two hundred percent…four hundred...six hundred...Energy capacity stable at six hundred sixty percent.”

Brona was motionless.

“Tony, you okay?” Bruce’s voice asked.

“Yep. Tech: 660. Magic: 0.”

“We could use a little help down here.”

“I have a small problem myself at the moment.” He looked around, trying to figure out how big the crater was.

Natasha cut in. “I just talked to Fury. Scotland Yard’s Special Branch convinced him they can handle Brona until he can be taken back to Asgard.”

"Tell them to head for the east outer wall, and stop when they get to Chicxulub. How’s it going with Loki?”

"Tom worked the mojo, and we were able to get into the cell,” Bruce said. “He’s unconscious, but breathing. Vitals are low. I’d like to get him on a glucose drip, but…”

“You can’t lift him without ruining your nice clothes. Okay, give me a few minutes to climb out of this pit.”

About halfway up the side of the crater, dragging Brona, two flashlight beams redundantly appeared.

“Hello!”

“You guys with the Special Branch?” Tony called.

“That’s us. Need any help?”

“No, I’ve got plenty of juice, thanks. Intentionally trying to keep it slow. For one thing, this guy’s out cold, and I’d like to keep it that way. For another, his specialty is absorbing energy, and I’m trying not to feed him. Seriously, drive real slow, and try not to get in an accident on the way home, or he’ll light up like an octogenarian’s birthday cake.”

A new voice, with an accent Tony suspected would be termed ‘RP’, spoke. “Is his power innate, or talismanic in nature?”

“You mean, does he have something on him that makes it work? Not a clue.”

Tony gently set the enchanter down when he finally got past churned earth, and opened his helmet. “He’s from another planet, guys. Weighs in the range of three hundred kilos. I’d love to help you out, but there’s another one in the basement under the White Tower, and he needs medical attention.”

“Another bad guy?” the first cop asked.

“Nope,” Tony said without the slightest hesitation. “One of ours. This guy was holding him-“

“So Director Fury told me,” RP cut in. “A bit of an embarrassment, on our part.”

Tony was impressed, in spite of himself. “I didn't catch your name.”

“My apologies, Mr. Stark. I’m Thomas Nightingale.” A badge that said ‘Chief Inspector’ appeared from a pocket. “This is my constable, Peter Grant.”

“Hi. Look, I’ll carry this guy as far as the Tower, and then you can get a fork-lift or something to take him to the parking lot. Oh, and I’m sorry about breaking your castle.”

“Nick told me a good part of the story. It was for the best of causes. We’ll finish up here. There’s an ambulance waiting out front. Take care of your man.”

Natasha was waiting outside the service door to the basement.“How is he?” Tony asked.

"Unconscious," she answered.

He followed her down some stairs, around a corner, and along a hallway to a heavy wood door that was propped open. The ceiling was low, and the floor was packed earth. A small solar lantern provided a pool of light. Shadows of things he wanted to forget started moving around behind his conscious thoughts. He probably would have lost his mind here, with nothing to do but wait. With the horrors that lurked in Loki’s past, he didn't know how Loki had remained sane.

Tom looked up from where he crouched at Loki’s side. Bruce stood when Tony came in.

“No blanket?” Tony asked.

“His current temperature is in the range of previous readings. With his funky physiology, I’m hesitant to make him too warm.”

“I was just told that there’s an ambulance waiting up at the gate.”

“Good. Maybe they’ll let me steal some of their supplies. I’d like to get him stabilized before we fly out, but I think a hospital would be a bad idea.”

“I have a hotel. It’s close. Great kitchen, nice little wine list. The rooms have these enormous bathtubs. And the elevators are huge. In fact, I designed the entire top floor to be easily defended by a small, but talented, group .”

“That should work,” Bruce agreed.

“JARVIS, give them a call. Let them know we’re on the way.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to update Steve,” Natasha said. She obviously preferred to get back outside, away from the confined space, and Bruce.

Tony knelt on one knee, and carefully slid one arm beneath Loki’s shoulders, and another under his thighs. Servos whirred as he stood up.

Loki stirred, and opened his eyes. “Where are you taking me?”

"Out of here, somewhere safe.”

“I want to bathe.”

“I don’t think-” Bruce began.

Tony remembered all too well how good it had felt to wash, and put on familiar clothing, to resume his normal persona after weeks in captivity. “He can have whatever he wants,” he said, firmly.

Outside, it was obvious that someone had bypassed Jarvis, because the lights were back on. Police and Army were starting to move through the grounds. Several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had arrived on scene to coordinate the investigation. Whether by consensus or by order, no one asked the trio of Avengers any questions as they walked to the car, and everyone got arranged inside.

Loki draped himself over Tony, who held him firmly with one armored arm around his waist. Bruce sat on his other side, encouraging Loki to take small sips from a bottle of water laced with nutrients. Natasha was on the facing seat, Tom next to her, arms crossed over his chest, watching Loki. As they drove past Whitehall, he cleared his throat. “If you’ve all finished with me, I suppose I should get back to the BAFTA presentations.”

“We’ll have the car drop you off, after we get him to the hotel,” Natasha said.

Tony’s conscience prodded him. “You know, ‘Thanks’ doesn't begin to cover everything you did.”

“I only wish I could have helped more,” Tom said.

Once they got to the hotel, the three Avengers focused on getting Loki inside, and up to their suite. Tom lingered on the sidewalk, debating with himself about following them inside. He watched through the glass doors, as Tony spoke to the desk clerk, and Natasha and Bruce waited with Loki in the lobby. He saw them get on the elevator, and waited until the door closed. Then he climbed back in the limousine.

“Royal Opera, please,” he said.

 

 

As soon as they stepped into the suite, Natasha headed to her room to make more phone calls. Bruce started unpacking medical equipment, and Loki began quietly arguing with Tony.

“I am perfectly capable of showering by myself.”

“I’m not sure you’re capable of standing by yourself!”

“This room is not big enough for the armor. If you want to help, take it off.”

“The armor is the entire point of me staying. If you fall, I can’t pick you up without it.”

“If I should fall, you can put it back on. You can’t help me undress wearing those gauntlets.”

In the end, Tony took off the suit.

Tony managed to hide his shock at Loki’s painfully thin body. Without comment, he let Loki spend a long time under the water, and Tony took advantage of the opportunity to bag his soiled and ragged clothing for disposal.

When he opened the bathroom door to take them outside, Tony stopped in his tracks. Bruce was injecting something from a hypodermic needle into the bag of clear liquid hanging from the IV pole.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, and his tone was dangerous.

Bruce was unperturbed by the question as he withdrew the needle and carefully re-capped it. “He appears to be anemic. I brought along a vial with a mixture of vitamins and minerals that I worked up, after analyzing his blood last autumn. That _is_ why,” he continued, removing his glasses, “you brought me along, right? Because of my medical knowledge, and familiarity with his physiology. And because I don’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D. any more than you do.”

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry. I guess I’m still on edge…”

“…and dealing with stuff. I get it. I’m just going to find out what Natasha is up to. I’ll be back in a few minutes. And I may need you to try to help convince him to let me get the drip started.”

By the time Tony returned to the bathroom, Loki had finished washing. He permitted Tony help him dry off, and to wrap him one of the hotel’s fluffy robes. Tony stood by while he brushed his teeth. There were a million questions he wanted to ask, but he knew he had to wait until Loki was ready. He had already done the most important things for now, by providing a place of safety, and a semblance of normality.

“Hey, I’m back!” Bruce called.

Loki actually submitted to Bruce’s needle without protest, although he wrinkled his nose at the lengths of clear plastic tubing that trailed from his sleeve, and up to the bag hanging from the pole. Room Service arrived, and he regally accepted the offering of a cup of cocoa and a plate of Hob Nobs that Tony brought to the over-sized chair in which he had settled.

Bruce was gone by the time Tony finished his own shower. Not bothering to belt his robe, he padded across the room to check on Loki.

Loki’s eyes were half-closed. The IV was barely visible in the shadows behind the chair, an illusion to make his condition less obvious. He was sprawled in the chair, with his robe fallen open to display his long, torso, and his legs were spread wide, with an impressive erection lying dark against his pale skin.

The exhibition stopped Tony in his tracks. “Now, that’s an inspiring sight. You been thinking about anyone in particular, or just me in general?”

Loki looked up at him, his eyes already brighter than when they’d arrived. “It took you long enough to finish in there,” he drawled. “I’ve been waiting for you to take me to bed.”

“You look pretty comfortable right where you are.” Tony tugged off his robe, and tossed it on the bed. “Besides, since this was a rescue mission, I didn’t think to pack any lube.”

“And yet, you brought along a tuxedo.”

“Yeah, well, gotta keep up with James Bond.”

“James Bond would have brought condoms.”

“I don’t _need_ condoms. I’m in a monogamous relationship.” He saw Loki’s shoulders visibly relax. _Oh. So that’s what that was about._ “Nothing changed, since you've been gone,” he added, just to make it clear.

He leaned down to kiss him, but Loki scornfully turned away. “Just do something about it.”

Other people had sex for fun, or excitement, to express affection, or to share comfort, but for Loki, sex was always about power, with the goal being victory, rather than merely release. Fortunately, Tony got off on a challenge like that. And, after his ordeal, this was one time when Tony thought Loki was entitled to make demands.

He got into a comfortable position on the floor, expecting to be there for a while. He brushed his cheek along the inside of Loki’s thigh, scraping the tender skin with his beard, and felt Loki shiver. He’d remembered to toss Loki’s own soap and shampoo into the bag he’d packed for him, and Loki smelled wonderful, the fragrance of ivy, cedar and apples mingling with his own scent in a heady mix. Tony licked he crease of Loki’s thigh, and, damn, he was getting turned on.

He nuzzled Loki’s hipbones, figuring that he’d be angry with himself later for finding their sharpness so goddamned sexy. Loki’s cock twitched as Tony’s hair tickled it, but Tony still wasn’t ready to get down to business. He moved lower, gently puffing warm, moist breath across Loki’s balls, then licking them and taking them into his mouth. Loki rolled his hips forward, demanding more, so Tony kept it up for a while longer.

When he sat back, and looked up, Loki was watching him through half-closed eyes. His lips were parted, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving. Tony touched the arc reactor, and slowly slid a hand down his chest, drawing Loki’s gaze with it, and stroked his own cock a few times. “Can’t help it,” Tony said, unapologetic. “You are just so fucking hot.”

Loki said nothing, but his nostrils flared slightly, and he drew a ragged breath.

Tony smirked, and grabbed the base of Loki’s cock with one hand, gently kneading his balls with the other. He captured the head of Loki’s cock with his lips, and licked at the tip. He always enjoyed Loki’s taste, and swirled his tongue in the drops that leaked from his slit. He heard a faint sound, Loki’s fingernails digging into the upholstery, and took that as encouragement to continue.

He stroked up the length of Loki’s cock, let go with his hand to wrap his lips around his width, and sucked him into his mouth. He felt a sense of accomplishment when it bumped against the back of his throat, and he could feel the strain in Loki’s muscles as he forced himself to be patient. Pausing to lick around the base, Tony ran his lips back up the shaft, which was hot, hard, and pleasantly slippery with saliva.

Loki hissed when he flattened his tongue and licked the underside of the head and shaft. Tony’s own cock was begging for attention by this point, and he really wished he had opted to use the bed for a long, languid session of 69. But he was committed at this point, and the shortest route to getting his own needs met was to finish Loki off. Teasing the head of Loki’s cock with his tongue, he circled his fingers and thumb around the shaft, and stroked down hard, swallowing him whole. He sucked back up, spreading more saliva, and added a twist of his hand on the down stroke. Loki sputtered at the chafing from Tony’s rough hands, which Tony took as a cue to repeat.

Multi-tasking was a Stark specialty. Tony’s mouth worked up and down Loki’s shaft, his fingers tightened and relaxed their grip, his tongue swiped and teased. He recalled the time he’d managed to convince Loki to sit on the sofa in the penthouse, wearing nothing but his tall boots, while Tony knelt between his legs to give him head. He remembered the smell of the polished leather, the feel of it on his arms and against his body, and the thought made his cock twitch.

Loki’s breathing sounded louder and more uneven, his cock harder than ever, and, from the salty taste, leaking profusely. Tony sucked in his cheeks, his hand, and mouth moving up and down Loki’s shaft, falling into a rhythm. He could feel Loki’s control slipping, his body rocking in a slight counter-rhythm. He applied a bit more saliva, and concentrated on maintaining suction with his mouth, while pumping harder with his hand. Someone was whimpering, it could have been either of them, and Tony’s hips were moving in search of the friction that just wasn't going to be happening for a while yet.

Loki’s balls tightened in his hand. Tony managed to work a finger free from the hand cupping them, and used it to press in on his perineum a second before the spasm shot up Loki’s cock. Tony locked his mouth around the base of Loki’s shaft, and felt the heat of Loki’s orgasm deep in the back of his throat. He groaned as Loki strained into him.

He held the position for a moment, and then gently released Loki’s over-sensitized flesh. Loki was slouched, eyes closed, limp and breathless in the chair. Tony stretched his jaw a few times, considered options for the relief of his own aching cock, and shakily stood up.

By that time, Loki’s godly powers of recovery had revived him to the point that he was sitting up straight in the chair. He was slightly out of breath, watching Tony with glittering eyes. With only a slight shakiness to betray him, he reached over to the tray on the table, picked up his cup, and took a sip. As he leaned forward, Tony steadied himself with a hand on Loki’s shoulder. It was a good thing, too, because his knees nearly buckled when Loki engulfed him with a hot mouth coated with warm cocoa.

Tony gasped when Loki pulled away with a smirk. He took another sip from the cup, found Tony’s cock again, and pressed his lips down over the shaft. Tony groaned as the creamy warmth enveloped him again. Loki’s tongue was doing amazing things, and Tony grabbed Loki’s other shoulder to steady himself.

“Not going to last much longer,” Tony muttered.

Loki let him go again, his smile anticipating imminent victory. He brought the cup back to his lips, swirling the cocoa around for a moment before capturing Tony’s cock once more. Lips tight around him, Loki took him all the way in, and swallowed. Tony groaned as the spasm rushed up from the base of his spine, and clenched Loki’s shoulders as he came, nearly tumbling both of them to the floor.

At some point, he realized that Loki had wrapped his arms around him, holding him steady while he wound down. Tony bent down a little, and brushed his lips over Loki’s hair. “Hey. That was fun.”

Loki chuckled. “Your wicked mouth rivals my own.”

“Seriously? You just defiled the reputation of one of the most innocent and relaxing substances on my planet!”

“Do you not feel relaxed?” Loki purred.

“Okay, yeah. I do.”

“Help me to the bathroom, and then take me to bed.”

“To sleep, right?”

“Unless, of course, you have another inspiring idea.”

“Yeah, no. Sleep would be good.”

He had just gotten Loki ensconced in bed, and was about to join him, when there was a discrete tap at the door. “Guys? It’s me.”

Tony sighed, found his robe, and peered outside. “Bruce. What’s up?”

“Natasha and I are going to order some food. We thought we should stay here, in case there’s a problem. Do you two want anything?”

“Thanks, but we’re just going to try to sleep for awhile.”

Bruce nodded, deliberately avoiding studying Tony too closely.” Should I order another pot of cocoa for Loki?”

“No! No. I think we’re good,” Tony said quickly.

“I want to check his IV in a couple of hours. I’ll knock, first, though.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“This is one of those awkward moments, isn’t it?”

Tony smiled. “Yep. But, hey, that’s what friends are for. Later.”

He closed the door, and slipped into bed. “Maybe you’d like some breakfast when he comes back. The kitchen makes these killer crepes.”

“Yes. Perhaps,” Loki whispered. “I wish to sleep, now. It has been a long time since I felt…safe.”

“Damn right you are,” Tony said, and wrapped his arms around him.

 

They arrived at the airport early the next morning. Loki was walking on his own, albeit more slowly than usual. His complexion still appeared pale, but that was partially due to the black shirt and jeans Tony had brought for him to wear. They were headed to the quinjet, when there was a shout behind them, and Tom hurried across the tarmac.

“I hoped to see you, before you left,” Hiddleston explained.

Tony took a few steps back, to allow them some privacy.

“It’s good to see you again,” Loki murmured.

“I’m glad to see you looking so much better than last night.” Tom held out a black leather jacket. “I thought you might be cold, and I brought this for you to wear.”

Loki’s eyes widened in surprise, and he permitted Tom to help him slip his arms into the garment,

“There’s one more thing.” Tom tugged at the corner of a battered paperback that was sticking out of one of the pockets. “Something to read, if you get bored on the way back to New York.”

“Thank you.” Loki reached out, and briefly squeezed Tom’s hand.

“Are you really in love with him?” Tom blurted.

“That’s-” Loki automatically snarled, but abruptly stopped. “I’m -” He broke off again, frowning. “He is my match in ambition, invention, and temperament,” he said at last. “He has seen many of the same sights I have, although we walked different paths. I trust him, as I have trusted few others. I would not call what I feel ‘love’ – but I am a sorcerer, and I respect the consequences of naming things.”

“Whatever it is you have together,” Tom said, “I hope it brings you happiness.”

He walked over to where the rest of the group was standing. “Have a safe trip,” he said to Natasha and Bruce. Then he looked at Tony, and said, “Take good care of him.”

“I plan to.” Tony shook his hand. “And if you ever need anything, not just from an Avengers point of view, which, hopefully, won’t happen again, but from a business standpoint, let me know.”

“I friended you on Facebook, a few months ago, when this first started,” Tom admitted. “And, now this is over, your inbox is probably going to be jammed with all the messages I sent. I’ll try not to bother you again for a good long time.”

Natasha climbed in the jet, and went up front to sit with the pilot. Bruce insisted on restarting the IV, and Loki, once again submitted without a fuss. In the meantime, Tony stowed Tom’s jacket in one of the lockers. After making sure the drip was working properly, Bruce settled down at the table with his ear buds and Stark pad. Tony belted himself in next to Loki. The engines started, creating a dull roar that made overhearing quiet conversation difficult.

“So, what happened between you two?” Tony finally asked. “I mean, he offered you his body, and I’m not saying that I want to know all the sordid details right now, but if you feel like telling me sometime, I’ll listen.”

Loki’s expression was unreadable. “He was kind to me, in my duress.”

“That all?”

“He tried to comfort me.”

“I saw the way he was eyeing you up, and it sure looked like he wanted to do a lot more than comfort you.”

“I made him no promises. I’m very careful about such things.”

“What I’m asking is: would you rather be with him, instead of me?”

“I am a god. I do not lightly take a mortal to be my lover.” Loki’s tone was cool, and it set off all sorts of warning bells in Tony’s mind.

“Does that mean you’re still okay with ...that thing we have going?”

Loki raised an eloquent eyebrow. “Please remind me: what exactly is this ‘thing’ we have? I don’t recall that it was ever defined.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the way we do things, here on Midgard. We start out with informal partnerships, until, or if, both parties are ready to enter into a legal agreement. There are all sorts of contracts, some of which have really cool clauses, like exemptions from being forced to testify against each other in court.”

“And what sort of contract have you in mind for us?”

“I was thinking about an equal partnership, in perpetuity,” Tony said, with growing confidence. “Survivor’s benefits, in case I blow something up in the lab, and die a horrible death.”

Loki leaned close to his ear. “You would entrust _me_ with control of your empire?”

“It’s possible. You don’t like the same people I don’t like. Maybe, in turn, I would be entitled to some sort of honorary status in Asgard?”

“Oh. Is this an actual _plot?_ ” The way Loki was looking at him suggested foreplay so strongly that Tony had to uncross his legs. "And to think that I feared you would try to woo me with ‘happily ever after’, or some similar sentiment.”

"I don’t ever promise what I can’t guarantee. Besides, there’s more adventure in it this way."

Loki turned so his shoulder was against Tony’s, their bodies touching from hip to thigh. “What sort of adventure could you possibly be contemplating?”

“The sort that would be simplified by my having official status. Having already helped negotiate the first official agreement between this world and Asgard in a thousand years should be a factor in my favor. Thor’s already snagged 'Defender of Midgard', but maybe 'Knight of the Realm' is still available.”

“I believe the title you’re angling for is 'Prince Consort',” Loki purred. “Though, I must remind you that it will take great diplomacy, coupled with persistence, to convince Odin even to permit the sort of contract between us that you’re proposing.”

“I haven’t proposed anything, yet. This is still the investigational phase.” To make his point, Tony rested his hand on Loki’s thigh.

Loki covered Tony’s hand with his own. “Go on. Tell me what you would do.”

“Tour the other worlds. Study their tech, covertly.”

“I thought you’d given up making weapons.”

“For other people. I’d still like to upgrade my personal arsenal.”

"And then, of course, there is the Tesseract.”

“It goes without saying that I'd like more of an opportunity to study it, in depth.”

“These are dreams that will not come to pass,” Loki informed him, his voice laced with regret. “Odin will forever distrust me, and you are damned by association.”

“Odin,” Tony said, close to his ear, “isn't going to rule forever.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up. “Is this wishful thinking, or do you know something I do not?”

“Well, that part is Plan B, actually. Although, if you’re interested in pursuing it, we can definitely shuffle the order. I've been spending some time talking with Thor – stop making that face – and the big guy has some amazingly good ideas. He introduced me to some like-minded people: your charming daughter, Hela, and the goddess Freya, queen of Vanaheim.”

“You _have_ been busy.”

“They were already feeling left out of the decision-making process, but they've been especially unhappy with Odin putting a greater priority on judging your actions during Thor’s exile, than dealing with the greater menace revealed by your alien abduction. They've formed a little consortium, and intend to use their combined influence to make Odin step aside.”

“So Thor can have his crown at last,” Loki scoffed.

“Here’s news for you: Thor doesn't want to be king.”

“Oh, really? Forgive my scepticism, but when did this change come about?”

“When he started taking the 'Defender of Midgard' thing seriously. What I find most interesting in all of this, is that they think the crown should go to you. You've got the skills, and they all figure they have enough leverage on you between them to make it worth their while.”

Loki looked stunned. “ _What?_ That’s…You can’t be…No. It’s just….”

“Hey, take it easy. Bruce is going to think I’m jacking you off.”

“Loki choked out a laugh. “It’s like one of those tales told to children.”

“No promises, no guarantees, remember?”

“And to think you've been involved in all this, a mere mortal from Midgard.” Loki suddenly turned on Tony, pressing him into his seat with a palm against his chest. “Your ambition truly rivals my own. What reward do you expect for putting me on the throne of Asgard?”

“I just want a better chance to protect my corner of the universe,” Tony replied. “'Guardian of the Galaxy', instead of 'Knight of the Realm'. At the very least, 'Gentleman of the King’s Bedchamber'.”

Loki relaxed back into his seat. “It’s all too much to think about right now.”

“Right. I understand that. We’ll talk about it in depth, later.”

“If only I wasn't so very tired,” Loki murmured, and reached for Tony’s hand again, intertwining their fingers.

Tony leaned over, and pressed his lips to Loki’s cheek. “Why don’t you try to rest? Nothing much is going to happen until we get home.”

A few minutes later, Loki closed his eyes, and Tony could tell from his breathing that he’d fallen asleep.

“We’ll be back in New York in time for lunch,” Natasha called from the cockpit.

Tony leaned his head on Loki’s shoulder, and settled in for a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> \- The incantation Tom helps Loki transcribe is known as 'The Nine Herbs Charm'. It is an actual tenth century pagan Anglo-Saxon spell written in Old English. NOTE: Please practice magic safely; never recite spells in languages you do not understand, or use translations thereof, unless you have great confidence in the skills of the translator.
> 
> \- The quote Tom reads to Loki is from Henry IV, Part II, Act 5, Scene 2
> 
> \- The impact crater at Chicxulub, in the Yucatan Peninsula, is one of the largest on Earth, and has been implicated in the Cretaceous era extinction event that wiped out most of the dinosaurs.
> 
> \- View fan art for this fic [here](http://gerardsbuttimplants.tumblr.com/post/46656824687/so-mizstorge-donated-to-this-cause-and-requested-a), by **gerardsbuttimplants**. Give the artist some love!
> 
> \- When I'm not writing, you can find me fangirling over Loki and Tony on [tumblr](http://mizstorge.tumblr.com). I reblog lots of Frostiron art, and I'm always happy to talk about my ships and fandoms!


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